


mr. sandman

by whore



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, SebaCiel - Freeform, Smut, Somnophilia, ladyvexll, vexing-young-master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-26 00:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whore/pseuds/whore
Summary: sebastian likes to have his cake and eat it.





	mr. sandman

Delicate little thing splayed across his white comforter, sleeping gown slicked to his body, flushed cheeks glistening with a thin layer of sweat, Sebastian marvelled at his master. He had taken his gloves off as part of his nightly routine, discarded in the pocket of his sleek jacket, his black varnished-nails sharpened to a point. He took a step forward, heavy enough to cause a creak in the wooden flooring below, but light enough as to not wake the snoozing little Lord before him. Sebastian wanted to take a closer look.

Incredible, the boy was.

Curled, dark, and feathery lashes were thick enough to cast a shadow upon his reddened cheeks. The boy’s bangs had been plastered across his forehead with sweat. His skin, taut as ever, was rising with every breath he drew in, a steady rhythm of inhales and exhales; it had Sebastian oddly mesmerized, for it was not an often occurrence to see his feisty little master at peace at last, his eyebrows relaxed, lips faintly gaped. No longer was he scrunching his petite button nose to snarl, nor was he drawing his eyebrows in to grimace, nor was he clenching his teeth in the same anger of a kitten who’s favourite ball of yarn had been taken away. Sebastian much preferred the boy like this. His cock, sitting upright in his trousers, seemed to agree, too.

Hand outstretched, Sebastian slowly brushed the hair out from his master’s face, knelt down to feel the warmth of his breath caress his own cheekbones in a tender exhale. He leaned in, carefully closing the gap between their lips, and what a pleasure it was to relish in the pouty, unmoving pucker of the boy’s; soft and smooth as a spring tulip’s petal, perfumed with the earl grey he had to drink before heading to the bedchambers. Reluctance in Sebastian’s every move, for addictive was the twang left on his lips, he did not want to pull away; making love to the boy’s hot little mouth would be ecstasy in and of itself, but he had more planned for the little charge.

A touch wouldn’t hurt.

Sebastian rid himself of his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and pulled out what throbbed and gushed with warmth, habitually swiping at the head with his thumb, slowly, heavily, later wrapping his hand around it, stroking at himself with every time the boy’s chest rose and fell, and “Mmm,” his master mumbled, head lolling onto the other side of his pillow, slowly turning the rest of his body over to lie on his stomach, pert little bottom arched in the air. A gorgeous sight to behold. Sebastian wet his lips. His eyes of simmering violet casting a faint light onto the highest points of his face, teeth prepared to stretch into canines, and he undid his tie, pulled out a large square of silk fabric from his pocket, and gave the material an experimental stretch. Sebastian used his black cravat to bind the boy’s wrists together before stuffing the silk into that open mouth. His Lord had always been known to be quite the heavy sleeper.

He took the napping boy’s dainty hands around his girth, and began to stroke at a slow, calculated pace. Because sometimes, on nights like these, after an excruciatingly long day of relentless teasing done by the young boy, having had every last nerve plucked from where it should be, having had steaming earl grey poured onto his head, having been driven to the brink of obliterating their contract, Sebastian liked to find the Lord where he was deep in paradise, and bring unto him, Hellfire.

_ “Mmm…” _

The midsummer July night itself had been half on its way to succeeding the heat of Hell’s flames, and so the boy was sleeping in only an oversized button-up, naught of undergarments or trousers of any sort. His young thighs spread wide, pink entrance beckoning the demon before itself, hem of the boy’s so-called paejamas barely covering where the curve of his bottom sloped down to form his thighs; Sebastian thought the boy would’ve learned by now, the consequences he would suffer from taunting the blithering monster asleep under his bed.

“Ngh…!”

The boy had begun to wake upon the head of Sebastian’s cock entering his dry hole. Stirred to consciousness, the boy’s eyes widened with a confused, muffled, _ ‘ehbatian? _

Sebastian only grinned. He said naught a word, and instead, plunged himself into the boy with one unforgiving thrust, immediately getting greeted by a snuffed out cry, then a surprised jerk of the hips from the boy, adrenaline beginning to soak into his veins as he had realized that he was impossibly, completely immobile, laid down on his expansive bed to be ravaged by Sebastian, his dear butler, seething with contained fury, fucking into his young ass with dry strokes that later grow sopped in cool slickness, the sensation against his hot little body sending him jerking up against Sebastian’s hips.

“What is it, my Lord?” Sebastian purred, palm secured on the arch of the boy’s back, pounding into him with unrelenting power, snapping his hips, the whorish sound of the young Earl’s asshole getting desecrated deliciously loud, the wet slap of skin on skin only further encouraging the beast, “Is there something you need?” other black-taloned hand threaded between locks of slated gray hair, Sebastian murmured, “You need to use your mouth, my lord; how can I possibly serve you if you don’t have the courage to tell me what you want? Are you unable to speak, my Lord?” he gave a disrespectful yank at the back of the boy’s head to bring him close, _ “Cat got your tongue?” _

A long, drawn-out whine came from the little charge, then a “st’ohh ‘ih! ‘ou di’h’y bahh’ard!”, short little legs attempting to kick the demonic mass atop him, and of course he could not, for what could a squirming, asthmatic little boy do versus such a creature unknown, fangs the length of his throat, claws sharp enough to butcher his baby body with ease, bone-cutting and terror-fuelled!; the commands he tried to spit with confidence melted to distorted warbles due to the cloth lodged down his mouth, and he could do nothing against the beast — nothing at all!

Sebastian threw his head back, a manic, excited giggle pushing through his teeth, “Why, my Lord, you are incredibly incoherent,” the boy gave an angry, muffled shout, wrists fussing against black cashmere, “but if I may be quite frank,” Sebastian leaned down to whisper directly into his ear, “I much prefer it when you’re like this,” he gave a threatening bite against the shell, tongue lapping the blood that spilled, “completely at my disposal, my Lord, you couldn’t stop me, even if you wanted to,” long, slivered tongue trickled down that milky neck, dipping itself into the caves of the boy’s collarbone, “but I know just how bad you long for me to use you like this. You want to be fucked like a cheap, double cent harlot, don’t you, you dirty little boy.” And it was not a question, but a statement, for perhaps the earl did crave to be split in half, to forget every title he held high to himself — my Lord, young master, heir of Phantomhive, all of it goes to rubbish when he who dares to play with the little charge grounds himself, holds the boy down, and fucks every ounce of arrogant dignity out of his vessel.

And Sebastian is he!; Sebastian does not hesitate to deliver a sharp slap to the boy’s delicate porcelain face, doesn’t hesitate to bruise and destroy and brand the beautiful bone-china that is Ciel, he tells him just how powerless he is against his own servant!; tells him to shut his smart mouth and put it to better use, holds him down and sheathes himself so deep within the Lord that he could feel his innards quiver in delighted fear, early morning breakfast ready to come right back up his throat. And though his master begs and begs for help, tells him to stop, Sebastian, s-stop it!, not once had he ever commanded him, on a night full of vengeful lust and rage and passion, heart true with fear, to halt his actions, to pull out of his delectable little body and leave him to be lone, strewn across his oversized bed, sweating, little cock curled up to his stomach, begging to spend.

Who would’ve known, such an impeccable little boy such as he, would have a soul of tar black, lined with the thinnest sheet of grace and purity! It once shone deceptively bright in Sebastian’s lying eyes, bright enough to blind, but upon closer inspection, it was all a trick of the mind, a trick of the light, for a soul that seemed so bright and promising could never have such a black pit at its heart!; the enriched sweetness that Sebastian thought he smelled was anything but; sweet nonetheless, a black ganache, seductive and full of trickery, all blossoming beneath this impish little boy, this impish little boy who had a life so short yet a core so incredible, surging with might and power and corrupted purity that would do naught but rot the little charge from the inside out. A waste, ah, what a waste, but still, Sebastian would have his cake and eat it.

He flipped the boy onto his back, not pulling out of his wet entrance, and slowed his hips, fucking into the boy at a rhythm humans would consider of love, but my, this was anything but; love was feeble and pathetic in the shadow of what bonded the two together. Lips to his master’s ear, Sebastian whispered filth, licked down his throat and sucked until it was littered with splotches of red to become blue and violet, eventually plucking out the square of black silk from the boy’s mouth to hear the breathless moans that had been trapped within, to release Heaven’s dove and cherish the singing that comes with. Sebastian held the boy tight to his chest, their hips welded with one another, the young Lord’s legs wrapped impossibly tight around his butler’s waist.

The commands that spilled from those lips were no longer to leave, to exit his bedchambers, to sleep in the manor’s massive attic, but for _ more, Sebastian, I want you to fill me up to the brim, I’m yours, I’m yours, make me one with you, Sebastian, make us one. _

**Author's Note:**

> new tumblr: [ladyvexll](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/ladyvexll)
> 
> god bless da memory of vexing-young-master


End file.
